Foster's Haven
by Stuckinmycocoon
Summary: It's been over a decade since Callie and Jude came into their lives. They've raised five wonderful kids and sent them all off to college. For most people, that would be enough. It would be time to enjoy the empty nest. But Stef and Lena are not most people. They know that there are more kids who need their help. What are they up to now? Trigger warning: abuse of many kinds.
1. Chapter 1 - The Phone Number

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show._

_Author's Note: Just to let you all know, I haven't quit _We Care_, I've just been super super busy with school. One of my teachers thinks that it's okay to give a multiple-choice test containing 250+ questions to be done in 100 minutes every two weeks. No joke. And that's just for one class. So I haven't really had any time to write. The first chapters of this story, however, I've had written for a while now, so I've decided to post it to give you something. It's in the same world as _We Care_, just set about 12-15 years later (haven't quite figured out the timeline; suffice it to say that everyone is out of college at this point). If you're new to my writing and haven't read _We Care_, don't worry, you don't need it to follow along. Read and review! If you like it, I'll give you more next weekend._

_Trigger Warning: Several of the characters in this story will have undergone abuse of some kind or another in their pasts. This includes physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, and substance abuse. For the most part, these are things that happened in their pasts and will be mentioned as such rather than detailed explicitly. I will add additional trigger warnings as needed at the beginnings of chapters. If you're sensitive to this kind of stuff, be warned._

_~~~o~~~_

**Chapter 1- The Phone Number**

Becky turned the once-crisp white business-card over in her hands. It held a name- "Haven"- and a phone number. Beneath the phone number was a single sentence- "Feel free to call collect." There was no other information. She'd been handed it a few weeks ago by the sandwich lady, told to call if she ever needed help.

A memory of that day came to the front of her mind. She'd run away again, away from her drunken mother's seemingly endless string of boyfriends. Most of the time it was alright, but sometimes when her mother was passed out on the couch, the man-of-the-month would come knocking at her door. Usually, she could get away. She used to go to a friend's house, until her friend's mother called the police. The cops came and picked her up, brought her to the station, tried to get her to tell them what had happened. Once, she'd even told them the truth, some of it anyway, that her mother was drunk. Later, when they went to her house to confront her drunken mother, a sober, well-dressed businesswoman and her equally sober respectful boyfriend met them at the door, thankful that they had brought her erring daughter home, apologizing for the trouble she'd caused. She had a tendency to exaggerate, to lie; she was at that rebellious stage; she resented her mother's boyfriend, wanted her father back; she ran away, but they thought she was just at a friend's house. Becky was then treated to a lecture by the policeman for causing trouble. He saw her seemingly perfect life, and suddenly her story was a lie. Becky learned that day, two years ago, that no matter what they told you, going to the cops did absolutely nothing. They always believed the grown-ups.

Now, Becky came to the streets for refuge, here again, just like the day she met the sandwich lady. She got her sandwiches, water, and vitamins, said "no thanks" to the offer of a blanket, book, or condoms, and started to go on her way, before being stopped and handed the card. She pocketed it, figured it was either just another churchy do-gooder, or some outreach program designed to trap runaways and hand them back, or even an elaborate trick orchestrated by a pimp to get you to trust them. But for some reason she'd kept it. Even after she finally went back home again, to her mother's tears, promises of doing better next time, and lack of the man-of-the-month. Her mother could be great, but Becky had learned something else that day with the cop. Appearances were everything to her mother. For the head of PR for a major company, a bad image could wreck her mother's career, a career that she had worked hard to build when she had nothing. That was not to happen, even at Becky's expense. What happened at home was kept to the home. Becky had told the secret to that cop, so Becky's image must take the fall.

But Becky was not going home this time. Ever. She didn't know what she was going to do, only that she wasn't going to allow herself to be put back into the hands of her mother and her mother's boyfriends. Not after her drunken mother, still conscious, sat by and did nothing while the boyfriend came onto Becky. Not after Becky, despite years of practice, couldn't escape from him on her own. Not after he got angry by her defense tactics and started punching her. No. That was it. The final straw. Anything was better than living with a woman who was supposed to protect you and instead consciously betrayed you. So when they were finally both sleeping off their drunk, Becky picked herself up off the floor, cleaned and bandaged her cuts, packed her backpack, and left. She wasn't going back again. Ever. Anyplace was better, as long as it kept her out of her mother's hands.

She knew she couldn't go to a shelter or police, or even a hospital, because in the end her mother would win and get her back. Staying on the streets was risky, she knew, not only from the dangers of con artists and pimps, but because police could find her and pick her up. She knew she only had a short while before her mother sobered up, worked damage control, thought up a story, and called the police to report her missing, presumed run away. And eventually, if she stayed on the streets of this city, they would find her. She needed to get away, find a place to hide out, but she had very little money on hand, whatever had been in her mother's wallet, and had heard plenty of stories of kids picked up at bus and train stations and sent home. Becky didn't even dare take one of the credit cards because she knew that could be traced back to her too.

Becky returned her attention to the card in her hand. She was staring at it, trying to get more information out of it. Was Haven a person or a place? Was the meaning of the name true or a trick? Would it provide an option? Was it just a hotline or something, or someplace that could actually help? The area code wasn't local, she knew that much, but she had no idea where it was from. If this was a place and it was located far away, that might be good, less chance of her mother finding her. And if it turned out to be a trap, then she could probably escape eventually, and have found herself with an anonymous ride to a strange city, a place she could start over. If it was just a hotline, even though she couldn't think of a hotline that wasn't a 1-800 number, and if she called them from a pay phone, then the worse that could happen is they would just give her stupid advice and she could hang up and leave. But either way, calling the number would give her more information, information she could use or not use, and be able to stop standing here wondering about. She decided to call.

Becky could see a payphone up the street. Its booth was covered in graffiti, which she was grateful for. It made it harder to see who was in there. She followed the directions on how to make a collect call- no point in wasting her money- and barely had to look at the number, she had been staring at it for so long. A sleepy voice answered after the operator connected the call. So, where ever this area code, it was still the middle of the night, and she had just woken someone up. Great way to start.

"This is Haven. How may I help?" The voice, although sleepy, sounded pleasant and sincere.

"I got your card a few weeks ago, from the sandwich lady."

"One of the sandwich ladies is me. My name is Lena. We may have even met, as I took the route three weeks ago. May I have your name?"

Becky hesitated, then answered. "Becky". Her first name couldn't hurt, could it?

"Hello Becky." The greeting was filled with warmth. It made Becky feel a little more daring.

"What is Haven?"

"Haven is a lot of things, Becky. It's a group of people who provides sandwiches to street kids. Right now, for you, it's a hotline. If you'll tell me what's up, then I may be able to help you. Depending on what you need, I can give you advice, point you in the right direction. And, if I find your situation warrants it, Haven could also be a true Haven for you, a place to escape from a bad situation. Will you tell why you are calling? I realize it might be hard, but there is no one answer for everyone."

"I ran away tonight. Please don't tell me I should go back. I've done it before. But each time it just gets worse and worse."

"What is bad?"

"I live with my mother. She's usually good, but she, uh...she drinks a lot sometimes. And she brings men home. Sometimes they're there for the night, sometimes they stay longer."

"And where are you during these nights?"

"I stay in my room usually. Listen to music. Try to ignore it. Unless..." a pause "unless the men... unless they come bother me."

"Where is your mother when they come bother you?"

"She's usually passed out on the couch or in her bedroom."

"And then what?"

"I can usually get away from them, and I leave. Run away."

"Where do you go?"

"I used to go to a friend's house, but now I go to the streets."

"The streets are not a safe place to be."

"I know. That's why I've gone back home before."

"What happens when you go back?"

"My mother cries, and apologizes, promises to be better."

"And the man?"

"He's gone by then."

"Why is this time different?" There was a long pause.

"My mother was drunk but awake when he came at me. And I couldn't get away. I tried. It made him madder. He..." another pause "he hit me, hurt me, and she just watched."

"So you don't feel safe at home anymore?" There were no apologies, just calm, simple acceptance. For some reason, that made Becky feel much better than sympathy would. It was like this woman was used to hearing stories like her's, which meant she would know what to do.

"No."

"Are you injured?"

"Not bad. Some bruises and few cuts that I took care of." Becky wouldn't allow herself to think of the other injuries, the less visible ones.

"But you believe that it would be worse next time?"

"There won't be a next time!"

"That's a very smart attitude to take, Becky. Have you ever told anybody about what is happening? An adult?"

"Yes. I used to go to a friend's house, but her mother called the cops on me, for running away so much, and she thought something might be wrong at home. The cops picked me up. I talked to them. They seemed to listen, but then my mother intervened, convinced them that I was lying."

"Are they believed her?"

"Yes. She was her daytime self... a sober, well-dressed, single-mother businesswoman. Head of PR at a big company. A paragon of the community. And I was just another rebellious lying teenager."

"Did she punish you for talking to the police?"

"Not exactly. She called my friend's mom, talked to her about it, and now we can't be friends anymore. Her mom doesn't want her hanging out with a troublemaker."

"But this experience with the police has led you to believe that if you go to them again, even with the evidence of abuse apparent on your body, they will believe her again and not you?"

"Of course they will."

"And she will take you home again?"

"Yes, but I'm not going back."

"That is a wise decision. But you need to go somewhere, don't you?"

"Anyplace I go will just send me back to her, even if it's the streets. The cops will find me and send me back."

"Child Services is obligated to follow up on allegations of abuse, especially cases of physical abuse. It would help you if you go to the hospital right away and get them to look at and record all your injuries."

"She'll just say I hurt myself, that I'm manipulative that way. Or that I'm running with a bad crowd. Or have an abusive boyfriend. But it's not me that manipulative, it's her."

"From what you have told me, that does sound true. Is there anything more you feel I need to know?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, I think I can help you, temporarily at least. Correct me if I'm wrong. Your biggest need right now is to find someplace that is safe where there is no chance that they will send you home."

"Yes."

"Then Haven for you could be a true Haven. Let me tell about another side of Haven. Haven was originally set up as a place for people to come and get help outside of city life. Some have stayed, some have moved on. There is a community of people here, mostly adults and their families. Apart from this, my partner and I run a shelter of sorts for minors, or a foster home, but not officially. We work outside the system, taking only cases where it seems the system will fail. Or, in some cases, has failed. If you choose to come to us. you will have come of your own free will. You are free to leave at any time. We are in a rural location, which means both safety and privacy, but also isolation. We do not attempt to keep you isolated in any way, you have the freedom of the place as long as you stay safe, but it is hard to get in and out, so you will have to trust us."

"You're offering me a place?"

"Not everybody who calls this number is offered a place. We try our best to redirect the callers into the system, to established shelters, the police, Child Services, even towards reconnecting with their parents. But for some, this isn't enough. From our conversation, it appears that you fit the latter profile. So this is what I am offering. First, if you want, I will send somebody to pick you up. Her name is Daniela, and she once called this number too, a little over three years ago. You can talk to her, ask any questions you want. If you still want to come, she will give you a ride back. I see by your area code you're calling from San Diego; it's a long drive, about four hours. Dani is here, so you have a four hour wait. If you do not feel safe in your current location, I can call somebody local to wait with you for Dani's arrival, or bring you to a safe place to wait there. Of course, you are free to back out at any time. If you do come, we will welcome you. You will have a safe place to stay, clothes, food, adults who care about you. In your first few days, you will be seen by a doctor for a check-up. It is confidential. You will also talk to me more, extensively and also confidentially, and together we will decide if this is truly the right place for you. I will not kick you out, but we have had cases in the past, where people have decided to go through the system, to tell their stories, at which point we have helped and supported them the entire way. If we do decide that this is the right place for you, you will be able to stay here for as long as you please, and we will help you and support you like a family. For example, Dani is 19 and she has been with us three years. If you do not choose to accept my first offer, then I can redirect you to a local, city shelter which will work with you, within the system, but will not immediately call your mother. They will spend time talking to you first. Which will it be?"

"I'd like to get as far away from my mother as possible, so you."

"Then I will send Dani for you. Are you in a safe location? Would you also like me to call someone to wait with you? It is four hours, remember."

"Ummm, I don't exactly know where I am. I took a random bus, got off at a random stop somewhere in San Diego."

"Could you tell me what the nearest street corner is?"

"Let's see, one sec" the line went quiet for a moment "it's College Ave and University Ave."

"Okay. One moment" silence on the other end "there is an IHOP about half a mile away on University Ave. I can have somebody meet you there in ten minutes, you could have some food, some talk. Would that be alright?"

"Sure, okay, I guess."

"Her name is Mariana Foster, late 20s, dark brown hair" a pause "and will be wearing a red jacket. She's one of the sandwich ladies. She's also one of my daughters, and this isn't the first time we've asked her to hang out with one of our callers. Okay?"

"Alright."

"She'll be at the diner in 10 minutes then. Would you like me to stay on the line with you until she arrives? Do you have any questions? We'll give you a thorough orientation once you get here."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"That covers a lot. Haven's been active about seven years all told, but we've only been doing this part of it for the last four. We were regular foster parents before, but then found out how the system can fail sometimes, for some kids, though we've always had good relationships with Child Services, relationships that have served us well over the years. So we stopped getting new kids, and after a while, didn't renew our license. We told them that we were too busy, with our kids and with Haven. We couldn't take the home inspections with minors living with us that we weren't legal guardians to. They know we run an outreach program, so on the few occasions that we've brought a child in to them, they figure we ran into them during the outreach. Since we have such a good record, they're willing to look the other way over small technicalities like that."

"How many people work there?"

"Again, that covers a lot. You'll understand once you get here. Stef, my partner, and I run the home. Think of us as the parents, of sorts. Stef was a cop, I'm a teacher. I run the Haven school, both for our kids (given all the troublesome paperwork and legalities at regular schools) and for the other kids in the greater Haven community. Some kids from town also come, the ones whose parents want an alternative education. There's about thirty kids all told, of all ages, but only eight, nine with you, live with us. Dani assists. In the rest of Haven, there's another thirty or so."

"I don't really understand about Haven."

"It's confusing, but that's because it's so many things. I've often thought we need to change the name of some parts, to make it less confusing, but do you know how hard it is to change the name of something like that? So we make do. Again, you'll understand once you see it, but basically, Haven is a large piece of land, 100 acres, kinda near the Nevada border. We moved there about eight years ago. But it's about time for you to meet Mari. She may be able to answer some more of your questions. She's also one of the few who knows exactly what we do. Okay?"

"Alright."

"Well then, Becky, I look forward to welcoming you to Haven in about eight hours."

"Alright. Thank you. Bye."

"You're very welcome. Good bye."

Becky hung up the phone. Wow, she thought. Who would've thought that card could hold so much? That woman, Lena, she sounded so nice. The place sounded weird, but good. Wait, she cautioned herself, it could still be a trick. But it seems too strange to be a trick, she argued with that part of herself as she walked up the street. Besides, would a trick give you four hours to change your mind and run away? Well, the suspicious part of her mind argued, they are sending somebody for you now. Somebody you're going to meet. Yes, but it's in a public space. I can always make a ruckus and get away. But what about the isolation? That sounds sketchy. But they wouldn't have told me about it if it were a trap. Her mental conversation continued along this track as she walked up the street, but in the end, Lena's honesty won her over. She hadn't made the place sound perfect, she'd admitted it was quasi-legal at best, and she gave her time to change her mind as well as two separate people to talk to, even if one of them was her kid.

~~~o~~~

_Author's Note 2: So, what do you think? And where do you think the Foster kids are now, school-wise, job-wise, relationship-wise? I have some thoughts, but if I like your ideas, I might just use them. Again, read and review, please!_


	2. Chapter 2 - Meeting Mariana

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show._

_Author's Note: So, this chapter might seem like it's a bit of a filler chapter, but it's a necessary filler chapter, both to show a little of what's happened over the years and in terms of character development. Bear with me if it seems a little slow at first, and really, let me know what you think. Like it, don't like it, leave a review. Let me know. And just a hint- the more reviews, the more I am inclined to post a new chapter...Now, without further ado, I give you chapter 2!_

~~~o~~~

**Chapter 2 - Meeting Mariana**

She reached the diner, opened the door. There weren't very many people inside, but one woman matched Lena's description- dark brown hair, red jacket. Also, Hispanic, though Lena hadn't mentioned that. Becky wasn't very good at guessing ages, but she thought late twenties could describe the woman. The woman had a friendly face. She approached, carefully.

"Are you Becky?" the woman asked. Becky nodded.

"I'm Mariana. Nice to meet you. Have a seat. Hungry? Here's a menu. What do you want? These waffles sure look good, but then again, so do those pancakes. And the French toast. Hmm, what should I have?"

Becky took the proffered seat and menu, a little overwhelmed by all the talking. In truth, she was starving, but she didn't have a lot of money and Lena had never mentioned who would be buying. She found the cheapest thing on the menu.

"I'll just have some toast, I guess."

"Toast?! With all this good-looking food around, you want toast? It's my treat, get something good."

"It's okay. I'm not that hungry."

"When was the last time you ate?

"I had dinner about 6."

"Six? It's almost one in the morning. That was seven hours ago. You should be hungry."

The waitress came by then. "What can I get you?" she asked.

"Toast," Becky said.

Mariana looked at her, and then at the waitress. "I'll have a cup of coffee, a cup of hot chocolate, two glasses of orange juice, Belgian waffles, fruit-medley pancakes, the banana-walnut French toast, and two eggs scrambled with cheese. Oh, and some hash-browns."

The waitress finished writing all that down, and then left. She was back almost immediately with their drinks. Becky gaped at Mariana.

Mariana just smiled. "I couldn't decide what to get, so I got it all. I hope you're planning on helping me eat it all. We are going to be here a while after all."

They were silent for a while. "So, what do you want to talk about?" asked Mariana finally. Becky shrugged. Mariana gave her that look again. "Let me guess, you have so many questions you don't know where to begin, but you're also a little nervous to be talking to a stranger face-to-face. On the phone with Lena was easier." Becky started to shrug again, then nodded, feeling that Mariana was on the dot there. "In that case, I'll tell you a little about myself, and then I won't be such a stranger anymore. Okay?"

"Alright."

"I'll start right before I met Lena and Stef. I was six years old the first time I met Stef. My twin brother and I were sitting in the police station, our latest set of foster parents having just dropped us off, with all our stuff in a trash bag. It was like they had just tossed us out with the trash. Stef came by, and said hi, and gave us some lollipops. Our case worker came for us in a few hours, and took us away. I was sure that was the last time I would see the nice blonde lady. But it wasn't. A few months later, after another foster family wanted us out, our case worker dropped us off at a new home, and she was there waiting. Her and Lena and her son, Brandon, who was a little older than we were. I remember I didn't say much at first; my brother, Jesus, he did most of the talking. I talked to him, and tried to clean up his messes. He had so much energy all the time. Between his energy and my silence, no family ever kept us longer than a few months. Until Stef and Lena, that is. They were kind, they were patient, they got Jesus the meds he needed to help with his ADHD, and they were simply there for us. They didn't push me to talk; Lena said I would when I was ready."

The waitress came with their food then, and Mariana broke off her story to take a few bites, motioning for Becky to do the some. Finally, she continued her story.

"Anyway, long story short, I did. And three years later, they formally adopted us. It was a happy day, to finally have a real family again, even though I still felt...something for my biological mother. I was confused though, and I kept it quiet. I just thought that no one would love me like she did, she who gave birth to me. It had been explained to me that she wasn't well enough to take care of her kids, and I remembered when CPS took Jesus and I away. She hadn't been around for a few days, and we hadn't eaten. But I thought, maybe, all she needed was time to get well and she would be back for us."

Mariana stopped talking to eat some more. Becky, who had been eating, had liked what she heard. It seemed like Lena was as nice as she'd thought, given all she'd done for Mariana and Jesus. But people are a lot more likely to be nice to little kids. It's like getting a dog; everyone wants a puppy. But she wasn't a puppy anymore. She was a teenager. Nobody likes teenagers.

Mariana resumed her narrative. "I got into contact with her about five year after the adoption. She seemed like she really regretted giving us up, and I liked looking like my mother. She said she was trying to get back on her feet, and I realized my younger self's version of the story needed a little adjustment. She wasn't sick, exactly, not cancer sick, like I kind of thought. She had a drug problem, also a sickness, but not where my mind was. I tried to help her. I stole my brother's pills and sold them at school to make money to give to her so she could pay for a treatment center. Later I realized she was manipulating me. She took money from me like I was an ATM, and when she asked me to steal something from my mothers', I realized then that blood wasn't the strongest determinant of love. But I had gotten Jesus involved at that point, and one night he went to try to get her away from the man she was shacking up with and to a shelter. I was worried, and finally I told Mom. She went after him, and she ended up shot."

She stopped to eat again. Becky was entranced by her story. And also by her calm. Mariana gestured at her to resume eating also.

"It was a really scary time, and I knew I had majorly screwed up. I was so certain that this was the end of my family, that Jesus and I would get kicked back to the system. Who wouldn't send us back? We had gotten one of our adoptive parents shot? But Lena and Stef aren't most people. They were mad, sure, but they forgave us, Stef quicker than Lena actually. They took my birth mom in for questioning, and came down pretty hard on Mike, Stef's partner, who had shot and killed the man who shot Stef. He almost lost his badge because of it. But we all came through. And we all came through again when my sister Callie ran away and almost killed herself. And when my brother Jude was bullied after he came out." She noticed Becky had stopped eating. "Have a question?"

"You didn't mention Callie and Jude before.".

"Oh, yeah, Moms adopted them, too. Callie was right about your age actually, Jude was younger. Callie also almost got Mom shot at one point, when she snuck out to rescue Jude from an abusive foster father, the same one that got her stuck in juvie for a while after she banged up his car to get him to stop beating Jude. This was, by the way, all happening at the same point I was sneaking around to see Ana, my birth mom."

Becky thought about this. They adopted someone her age once? Maybe these were people who did like teenagers. And they kept Mariana after she got one of them shot? Were they saints?

"Anyway, lots of drama later, but all five of us went to and graduated college. At first, I wanted to study fashion-" Becky could've guessed that based on her fashion-trendy clothing- "but then I got interested in addiction, to try to understand my birth mom, and now I'm an addiction specialist. I haven't forgotten my love of fashion, though, so I help with the San Diego branch of Dress for Success. Have you heard of it?"

"Maybe...?" Becky offered hesitantly. It sorta sounded familiar...

"We, er, 'promote the economic independence of disadvantaged women by providing professional attire, a network of support, and the career development tools to help women thrive in work and life'. That's straight from the mission statement, by the way."

"You came far."

"Thanks to Lena, and Stef, I did. I owe everything to them. But I haven't forgotten where I came from. I also want to be a foster parent, once I'm settled and have more time to devote to children, but for now I work as a CASA-"

"What's that?"

"A Court Appointed Special Advocate. Essentially, we're appointed on behalf of a judge, to speak on the behalf of a child, usually in custody disputes, sometimes with abuse allegations. It's our job to collect information from parents, teachers, family members, and the child. We review records, and even to visit the home, all for the purpose of figuring out what's in the best interests of the child, and then we present it in court."

"I didn't even know there were such people."

"Well, there are. I've even worked with some of my moms' kids." Becky started, and looked at her suspiciously. "No, I'm not going to turn you in. However, if you ever need me, here's my number." Mariana passed a business-card across the table, which Becky took. She seemed to be getting a collection. "I know what they do now, and that it's only quasi-legal at best. But I agree with them that it's necessary. And they need somebody local, somebody to cover for them until someone can come. So that's why I take calls in the middle of the night, asking me to help them out, sit with a kid during the four-hour wait. I've given them rides to safer locations than the ones they called from. I've even shown up at 4 in the morning, only to find out that the kid has disappeared. But knowing what they did for me, how could I do anything else?"

Becky nodded, reassured. It made sense. But she still didn't exactly like the fact that she was sitting with someone who worked for the court. But then it dawned on her, maybe that was a good thing. She was scared of being turned into the police, not that Haven was some big trick anymore. And the fact that Mariana worked for the court gave it just a little more validity.

"Now, am I less of a stranger to you?" Becky nodded, shyly. "Well, I won't make you tell me your story to be less of a stranger to me. Unless you want to. In that case, I'm all ears. But if you've been vetted to come to Haven, then I know your story probably isn't the most comfortable, and that you probably aren't the most comfortable telling it. Yes?"

Becky nodded. It seemed like Mariana had a gift for knowing exactly what was on her mind. That, or she had just done it a lot. Either way, it made her feel comfortable around Mariana. Comfortable enough to ask a question. "Tell me more about Lena and Stef, please. Stef's a cop? And you work for the courts? But isn't this place not exactly, um, by-the-book? I'm so confused about Haven, but Lena says I have to see it before I really understand."

"Stef was a cop; she's not anymore. That's an important distinction. She keeps some of her old contacts, just in case things need looking into, she does some detecting around some of the kids they take in – she was able to put a pimp away once – and she makes sure that even if what they do sometimes isn't precisely legal, it's not illegal either. And Lena's right. I mean, I could tell you about it, and I'd be happy to, but you'll still be confused. It's just not one of those places that can be explained easily. "

"Alright. Might as well wait. At least it seems like nothing bad will happen there."

"Definitely not. Rest assured on that point." Mariana smiled at her again, and this time, Becky smiled back. "Want something more to drink? Another hot chocolate? We've still got more than an hour." Becky nodded, and Mariana waved over the waitress, to refill her coffee and Becky's hot chocolate. People had come and gone in the time they'd been sitting there, most of them getting after-party food, but at the moment, the place was virtually empty.

"So Lena and Stef..." A pause. "They're together? Married?"

"Yes. That doesn't bother you, does it?" Becky shook her head. "Stef was married to a man before Lena, Mike actually, her old partner and my brother Brandon's father, but she says she was never really happy with him. Lena was the assistant Vice Principal at the school where Stef brought Brandon to start kindergarten, and it all kinda went from there. They were together three years before Jesus and I joined them, and after Stef got shot, she proposed to Lena from her hospital bed."

"Really? Sounds like something from a movie, or a tv show."

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it? They had been domestic partners for eleven years and finally Stef proposed. She was worried about what her dad would say. He wasn't the most supportive of her 'lifestyle choices'." Mariana gave air quotes and an eye roll. "But he came around eventually, actually. He never actually said anything negative to Jude or moms when Jude came out, and a few years after the wedding, we even convinced him to go to Pride with us." Mariana smiled at the memory.

"That's nice" was all Becky said, her mind still processing it all. Does that mean...would it be safe...for her there, to explore these feelings that were so confusing? They sipped quietly at their hot chocolates for a while.

"So, Dani should be here in about ten minutes or so. Want any last minute food? We finished eating a while ago, and it's a bit of a drive. I'm sure Dani will stop if you get hungry, but there's not a lot of choice for a while, especially at this time of night. I'm assuming of course that you still want to go?"

"I do. Want to go that is. I don't know about the food. I'm not really hungry, just kinda tired."

"I don't blame you. It's almost five in the morning after all. It'd be tired too if I hadn't been sipping coffee all this time. You could sleep in the car if you wanted to."

"Maybe. I'll see. Won't Dani be tired too?"

"Dani will be fine, I'm sure. She makes this drive often enough. She knows how to keep herself awake. She's probably had more coffee than I've had. She'll probably come in for a cup when she makes it here."

"Okay." Becky felt a little bad, that all these nice people were going so much out of her way to help her, but she didn't really have another choice. And they treated it like it was completely commonplace.

Just then, Mariana's phone rang. "It's Dani," she said and answered it. Becky only heard about half the conversation, but it really only seemed to confirm that they were still at the diner. Mariana hung up. "She'll be here in five minutes." Becky nodded. "Any last minute questions for me?" Becky shook her head. "Okay then."

They sat in silence for a few moments, nursing the dregs of their drinks, until Mariana spoke again. "I think you'll like it there, I really do. I know Lena and Stef'll be great to you. And you can trust them. Really. They only want to help you. Maybe grown-ups haven't always been there for you, but really, they're good ones. Okay?"

"Alright."

"And you have my number. If you ever want, or need, to get in touch with me, just call it. Whenever. I'm serious, alright?"

"Alright."

Just then the door of the dinner opened up and a pretty African American girl walked in. Becky judged her to be a few years older than herself. "And that," Mariana said, "would be Dani." She waved Dani over to them. Dani stopped to talk to the waitress on the way over, and then came by their table. Mariana got up, and the two hugged. It was obvious to Becky that they knew each other well.

"Dani, meet Becky. Becky, Dani," Mariana said, introducing them briefly.

Dani held out a hand, which Becky took gingerly. Dani covered it with her other hand, looked into Becky's eyes, and said, "Nice to meet you." The sincerity in her eyes was unmistakeable.

"Nice to meet you," Becky replied.

"I'd hug you too, but I don't know how you'd take that from a stranger. I'm a big one for hugs."

Becky considered it. "I actually think I'd be okay with it."

"Okay then," Dani said, and hugged her briefly. "So," she said, after they parted, "can I sit for a minute? The waitress is grabbing me a cup of coffee and a bite to eat."

Mariana padded the booth next to her. "C'mon, sit." She looked at Becky. "What I tell you about the coffee?" Dani laughed. They talked about commonplaces for a while. It sounded to Becky like they were catching up, on their lives, on people they both knew. She just stayed silent and listened. And the last of her apprehension melted away. This wasn't a trick. She didn't even have to see Haven to come to that conclusion. While Mariana could, theoretically, have been lying to her this entire time, which she just couldn't believe, this friendly banter, sharing stories about Haven, seemed far too real to ever be a trick. Nobody would go through this much effort just to trap her for some nefarious purpose. She was being paranoid. Muscles that she hadn't even known were tense relaxed.

The waitress came by with a foam cup of coffee and two foam boxes. She refilled Mariana's coffee too. Dani checked one, and then opened the other. It revealed a batch of banana-walnut french toast, identical to what they shared earlier. Mariana laughed, and pointed it out.

"What, it's good!" Dani said defensively and dug in. She inhaled a third of it, and Mariana's coffee. "I'll eat the rest on the way." Mariana noted Becky's look of surprise at the little Dani ate.

"Dani eats little meals every two to three hours. She claims it's how she gets her energy."

"It's true!" Dani argued. "And Lena does the same thing most of the time."

"True enough," Mariana agreed good-naturedly.

"Speaking of which," Dani said, turning to Becky, "we ought to be going. It's a long drive back. You ready?" Becky nodded. They all stood up. Mariana and Dani hugged again, and Dani grabbed her coffee and boxes. Becky turned to Mariana.

"Thank you," she said, feeling like it wasn't nearly enough. Mariana hugged her. "You'll be okay," she said. "I know it. Whatever happened before, you'll be okay now, with Lena and Stef and Dani. You believe it, okay?"

"Alright."

Mariana let her go. "And you have my number." Becky padded the pocket where she stored it. "Okay then."

"Time to go," Dani said. She led the way out the door and onto the street. Mariana went one way, and Dani led Becky the other way.


	3. Chapter 3 - A Long Car Ride

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show._

_Author's note: It's Veteran's Day today (in the USA, for those of you reading from another country), which means a day off school! Yay! The long weekend has allowed me time to update both my fics. (Shocker!) So, read and review, please!_

_Trigger Warning: Mention of underage prostitution and drug abuse in the past of a character. Doesn't go into too much detail or specifics._

~~~o~~~

**Chapter 3: A Long Car Ride**

"It's a long ride ahead of us," Dani said as they got into the car. "You might want to get some sleep. There's some blankets and a pillow in the back, in you want."

"I'm not really all that tired," Becky responded. The war between whether or not to trust these people was still going on in her head, despite her earlier reaction in the diner just minutes earlier. Falling asleep in a car with someone you just meet who was taking you to an unknown place set off huge warning bells.

"It's like, 5-o'clock in the morning. Did Mari give you coffee?"

"I had hot chocolate."

"Sugar rush?"

"Not really. I just, I'm not all that tired."

"That, or you don't really trust me." Dani said, perceptively.

Becky hung her head. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"You guys have been good to me, and I wish I could just relax, but..." she trailed off.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Really, it's perfectly normal. I didn't trust at first either."

"You? I mean, I know Lena said you called the number, but you seem so...normal, so...put-together, like." She paused. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Too personal."

"Again, nothing to be sorry for. My story made me who I am. We are the sum of our experiences, after all, when all is said and done. And yes, what Lena told you is true. I did call this number, a few years ago, and it literally saved my life. They came and got me, got me away from my pimp, took me back to Haven with them, and I still didn't trust them. I was also completely strung-out at the time." She said it so matter-of-factly that Becky couldn't do anything but stare silently. "Have I completely shocked you?" Dani finally said, after Becky said nothing.

"No..." she dragged it out, unsure. "I mean...you don't look like...that's not what I'm trying to say...I hit the streets for short periods, and I saw girls who had to live that life...and you don't...I mean, they had...:"

"Say whatever is on your mind. I won't get mad, I promise."

"Their eyes. They all had dead eyes. You don't."

"I did, but it's amazing what a little hope and having a couple of people who are willing to love you even when you can't love yourself, and don't think yourself worthy of love, can do to a person. I left a shitty situation and I fell into a shittier one. They picked me up out of the gutter, got me clean, got me counseling, gave me a home, made me feel safe again, and really truly cared." She paused. "I know you don't trust us right now. Why should you? All we've given you is words. I hope that once you see the truth of those words, when we get to Haven, sets the stage for building that trust. Nobody's lying to you, Becky."

"I think I can see it. I saw it when you were talking to Mariana, about commonplace things and people you both know. I can't imagine somebody orchestrating all that just to get their hands on me."

"Well, I can tell you from past experience that pimps can be pretty sneaky when they hook you in, but no one's trying to do that here. But if you're worried, I can stop the car right now and let you out. You're free to go at any time."

"Lena said that."

"It's true. Do you want me to pull over?"

"No." There was a long silence. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I'm glad it wasn't your fate. But my experiences have made me stronger, and I hope to use them to help others. I'm taking some distance courses in psychology and social work right now. Stef and Lena keep trying to get me to go to university, but I don't really want to leave. It's my home now. I feel safe there. So this is the compromise."

"That's nice," was all Becky said, staring out the window. There were few cars on the freeway this early in the morning, and she wondered about the drivers. Were they going to work, or coming home from a graveyard shift? It all seemed so commonplace; her commute anything but. Did other cars hold secrets too?

Dani let her sit in silence for a while, sipping her coffee. After a little while, when Becky seemed disinclined to say anything more, she broke the silence. "Do you want to talk? Do you have any questions? I could put on the radio or something if you want."

"If I wasn't here, what would you do?"

"I was listening to an audiobook on the way in. Following the plot and the characters help keeps my mind awake."

"We can do that then."

"Are you sure? I'm kinda in the middle of it, though I can turn it back if you'd like."

"No, it's okay. Just start wherever you left off." She paused. "I'd kinda like to listen to something other than my own thoughts for a while."

"I get it," Dani said, as she fiddled with some knobs. Shortly thereafter, a voice began issuing from the speakers. "You should be able to catch on pretty easily. It's not too complicated. Ask if you have questions?"

"Okay."

Becky listened to the story as she sat staring out the window, forehead pressed to the glass. She followed along for a while, but despite her earlier protestations, her eyelids began drooping, and soon, without her even noticing that it was happening, she slipped into slumber.

When she awoke, it was much lighter outside and the car had stopped. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed two things. First, Dani was no longer in the car. Second, they were at a gas station, a little one. But before she could get herself too worked up, Dani appeared out the door of the mini-mart.

"She awakes!" she said, as she drew closer to car. "The bathroom inside's clean, if you need it. I was fit to burst." She winked at Becky. "All that coffee, you know."

Becky was still waking up and adjusting to her new surroundings, but the pressure in her bladder was making itself known. "Yeah, I guess I do." She unbuckled her seatbelt, and unwrapped the blanket from around her shoulders, which she had only just then noticed.

"It's in the back. Oh and here," Dani said, reaching into her pocket and pressing something into Becky's hand. "Grab something to eat or drink if you'd like; we've still got about an hour more of road ahead of us."

Becky looked at her hand. A five-dollar bill sat there. "I can't...you don't have to..."

"I know I don't have to, and you can. Now go, while I finish filling up the tank."

Becky saw the sign for the bathroom as soon as she walked through the door. After using it, she browsed the limited food options. Finally, she grabbed a bottle of Coke and the least dilapidated muffin on the rack. She felt bad spending Dani's money, but had a feeling that Dani would send her right back in if she came out empty-handed. The pimple-faced guy behind the counter, who looked to be about Dani's age, paid her no mind as she paid for her purchases, which was more than fine by her. 'Try not to attract attention' had been her motto from an early age.

As she excited the store, she saw Dani talking to someone on her cell phone. She caught bits of the conversation - "stopped for gas" and "as well as could be expected" and "about an hour". She wrapped up her conversation about the same time as Becky reached the car.

"That was Lena," Dani said. "I was just giving up a heads up on our ETA. She's really looking forward to meeting you."

Becky hung her head. She didn't vocalize it, but all she could think of was _why?_

"Shall we?" Dani said, not minding her lack of response. Becky climbed back into the car. Dani turned it on, and pulled out the gas station. The audiobook came back on, and the two girls listened to it. Even though Becky had missed the beginning, and slept through the last three hours or so, she found Dani was right in saying she could still follow along. The plot wasn't all that complicated.

Becky watched the road. They had definitely reached a more rural location. They were off any main freeway, though Dani was still clipping along at a fairly quite rate. It was mostly ranch land and farm land on either side, broken occasionally by a very small settlement not even big enough to be called a town. Lena had been right when she'd said it was rural. And isolated. But strangely, that didn't freak Becky out as much as it had earlier. Something had happened in her sleep, and now she didn't find the thought of isolation nearly as daunting. She feared she might be trapped there, unable to escape. And while that fear hadn't completely gone away, a new thought was replacing. The thought that it might actually mean safety. Safety and freedom, if it was all they had said it would be.

Dani seemed to notice where her attention was. "That's a National Park over there," she said, beckoning to her right. "Most of the rest of this is ranch land. Haven used to be a ranch, before it was converted. Still have the old ranch house though. That's where you'll be living."

"Did Stef and Lena buy it all themselves?"

"Not exactly. They bought a share in it. They found they weren't the only people who wanted to get away from city life."

"A share? Is it...like...a commune, or something?"

Dani laughed, a full deep-bellied laugh. "No, not a commune. But some of our neighbors still think it is. We had one guy who seriously thought we were a coven of witches practicing animal sacrifice and dancing naked under the moonlight."

"Really?"

"Really really. I think he spied on us for weeks trying to get a glimpse. Finally, he stopped. I think he just grew tired and disappointed that he didn't get to see what he was looking for."

"Weird."

"Yeah, seriously. People sometimes just have trouble understanding what they don't perceive as normal. Just because they want the house with the white picket fence, the 2.5 children, and the 1.8 cars, doesn't mean everyone else does too. When you break out of that mold, it can be hard for them to comprehend it."

"Yeah."

Dani suddenly turned on a side street. "We're on Haven land now."

"I don't see anything."

"It's a little ways in, off the road, you know."

"Yeah."

As they kept driving, Becky began to see little houses in the distance, and when they drew closer, she saw that they were still little houses.

"Dani?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are there so many tiny houses?"

"It's just how Haven came to be. Smaller houses are more sustainable, easier to heat and cool, cheaper to build. It encourages people to stay outside more, to interact within the community. One of the early members is an architect. He designed them for maximal efficiency in terms of space allocation. Or at least, that's what he said. There are three different sizes: single, double, and family."

"Families live in those?"

"The larger ones. Most people who come here nowadays don't have much. We house them, and when we run out of houses, we build more and everyone contributes. It teaches construction skills as well, which they can use to get a job with."

"Huh."

"You'll get the tour later today. I'll leave it to Stef and Lena to explain; I'm sure they'll do a better job."

A larger house was coming up in the distance. It looked like a mansion compared to the tiny houses, but Becky could see that, as houses go, this one wasn't all that big. It had a wrap-around porch on two sides, and a whole wall of windows. It looked open, and very welcoming.

"Here we are," Dani said, pulling up in front of it.

Becky watched the house as two figures stepped out the front door. Both were women, both maybe in their fifties. Both had very kind faces. But there the resemblance ended. One of the women had blond hair, just starting to silver. The other woman was darker, a shade between Dani and the first woman, with masses of dark brown curly hair streaked with silver. They stood together on the porch, hand in hand. Becky got out the car.

"Welcome to Haven," the darker of the two said.

~~~o~~~

_Author's Note 2: So, in the next chapter, we're going to meet some of our Fosters and see what has happened to them over the last decade. Got any predictions? Suggestions? Leave it in a review!_


	4. Chapter 4 - People Who Care

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show._

_Author's Note: Sorry it took a while to update; school's been crazy, but it's Thanksgiving break now, so you guys get an update! Oh, spoiler alert, for everyone who wants to see Callie, you will in this chapter. (I hope you like where I decided to go with her life... Leave a review and let me know!)_

_Trigger warning: Past tense rape and abuse. Some details._

~~~o~~~

**Chapter 4: People Who Care**

"Welcome to Haven," the darker of the two said.

Becky stood uncertainly by the car. "Well, go on," Dani said, also getting out of the car. Becky picked up her bag and walked toward the two women on the porch.

"I'm Lena," the speaker said. "This is Stef. You must be Becky."

"Yes, ma'am. Pleased to meet you...uh...thank you. It doesn't seem enough, but...thank you." Becky said awkwardly, offering her hand. (No one could say her mother didn't teach her manners, at least.) She was immediately engulfed in a hug, and while she stiffened at first, surprised, she soon relaxed into it. Her mother's hugs had been short, stuff, distant. This was warm, comforting; it was everything she always wanted to get from her mom and never did. _She...Lena...she can't be bad if she hugs like this..._

"Come inside," the other woman – Stef, Becky reminded herself – spoke for the first time. She guided Becky in by slinging an arm around her shoulder, while Dani and Lena hugged, holding a short, quick, whispered conversation Becky couldn't hear. _Are they talking about me?_ _Probably. Just as much as I worry because I don't know them, they probably worry because they don't know me. I could be like...an ax murderer or something, for all they know._ The thought occurred for the first time. Trust goes both ways, after all. Granted, this was their home turf, they were many to her one, and they were adults, but inviting an unknown was still a little risky. The thought was oddly comforting in a strange way.

"Are you hungry? We had breakfast with the other kids – they're at school now – but I could make you something?" Stef asked, as she guided Becky into what was obviously the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder at Lena and Dani. "Dani, food?"

"I'm good for now," Dani said. "I think I'm just gonna take a catnap."

"You deserve it, hon," Lena said, fondly.

Dani turned to Becky. "You good? You want me to stick around?"

Becky shook her head. "Thanks for the ride. You drove an awfully long time to get me, and I really appreciate it. You're probably exhausted."

"Eh, I've never needed that much sleep anyway," she said with a shrug. Stef scoffed. "What?"

"When you first came here, you would sleep like 12 or 14 hours a night. You slept the clock around once," Stef replied, teasingly.

"Hey, that was a while ago, I was a different person!" she protested. "Seriously though, Becky, it was my pleasure. Really. So, if you're sure, I'm going to take my nap and I've see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah." Dani disappeared out another day, and Becky saw a glimpse of the outdoors as the door closed. _She must have her own place. Not here. Who else lives here? It's not very big..._

"You never answered me about that food," Stef said.

"We stopped at a gas station. I had a muffin. And Mariana stuffed me at IHOP."

Stef laughed. "Yeah, Mari's good at that."

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a racing blur that quickly attached itself to Lena's legs. "Nana!" it called out. Lena swung the toddler – for that is what it was – into her arms, and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Hi sweetheart!" she said, hugging the little girl.

Another blur soon followed, this one making a beeline for Stef. "Gammy!" Stef swung a little boy about the same age into her arms and gave him a matching kiss on her forehead. "Who that?" he asked, staring at Becky.

"This is Becky," Stef said. "She's going to be staying with us for a little while. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. I Noah," he said, with a charming smile, tossing back brown curls. "And that's my sister," he announced, jerking a thumb toward the little girl still in Lena's arms.

"Nadia," Lena said. The little girl in question was hiding her face in Lena's neck, and all Becky could see were the brown curls that were a match to her brother's, albeit a bit longer. "She's a little shy. And if they're here, their mother should be by very shortly..."

"She's here." A new voice said, and Becky turned in the direction it was coming from. A brown haired woman, the shade of her hair a perfect match of the kids' though it wasn't curly, stood there. Becky guessed that she looked to be maybe thirty, and she had a very peaceful, happy face. "I'm Callie," the woman said, introducing herself.

"Becky. Pleased to meet you."

"And I, you." She turned to the two older women. "I ran into Dani. She said we had a new arrival."

"And so you decided to pay us a visit?" Despite the formality of her words, Lena didn't sound annoyed at all.

"Well, I figured I'd be hearing from you soon enough anyway, and the twins really wanted to come over." She looked fondly at the scene in front of her, each of her moms cuddling one of her kids. "You spoil them, you know."

"Well, what are grandmothers for, if not to spoil their grandchildren?" Stef asked, rhetorically.

Becky was also watching the scene in front of her. This was...family. There was no other word for it. It was just, perfect, family, and she felt an ache deep inside her heart. This is what she had been missing her entire life, but it was not her family. Without even realizing it, she suddenly stopped doubting their intentions entirely and was instead consumed with a desire that she could just stay for a little while and pretend that this was her family.

"Becky?" Lena's voice jarred her out of her ruminations, and she suddenly realized everyone was looking at her.

"Sorry," she said, flushing and ducking her head. "I guess I just...zoned out, or something."

"There's nothing to apologize for. You've had a really long night, and you've been plunged into something completely new. It's understandable to be overwhelmed and tired. How about we just all sit down for a minute," she said, gesturing toward the big, worn table.

Becky gratefully took a seat with Lena. Stef and Callie pulled out some highchairs and set the twins in them, offering them dry Cheerios to eat and play with. Stef then pulled out some mugs. "Something to drink, Becky? Coffee, water, juice?"

"Some water would be nice," she said shyly. Stef grabbed a glass along with three mugs, pouring coffee into the mugs and water into the glass.

"Thanks, Mom," Callie said with a smile.

"Thanks," Becky echoed.

The four of them sat down at the table, sipping quietly, the silence and serenity of the moment broken only the sound of the twins playing and giggling. Becky let herself relax into it, and pretend that she was a permanent part of it all.

Finally, about halfway through her cup of coffee, Lena broke the silence. "So, Becky, you're here. We should get you settled in and give you an introduction to the place. There's a couple of things we all need to do, too. First off, Callie's a doctor. You mentioned that you were a little injured on the phone – cuts and bruises, I think you said – and I'd really like it if you allowed Callie to take a look at you sometime this morning, just to make sure you're fine. Would that be okay?"

Becky nodded. She kinda expected it. After meeting Callie, the prospect of having to talk to a doctor didn't faze her as much as she thought it would.

"Good. Thank you. A medical exam is the usual for all our new arrivals, but it's even more important when there are injuries to be considered. We will also need to have a conversation about the circumstances that brought you here; more in-depth, that is, than the one we had on the phone. You'll also get a tour and run-down on the place, which will hopefully answer some of your questions and if not, feel free to ask. I expect you may be tired, and you might want to follow Dani's lead and take a nap, get cleaned up, whatever you need. We're in no rush, there's no schedule that needs to be followed, so what works for you?"

Becky shrugged, feeling a little overwhelmed by it all, and a bit worried about the exam and 'conversation'. _What if I don't say the right things and they figure out I don't belong here?_

"Well, since Callie's here, why doesn't she take you while Lena and I play with the kids, and then we can see how you feel after?" Stef suggested, noting the uncertainty in Becky's eyes and offering a little guidance. Becky nodded.

"Right-o," Callie said, downing the last of her coffee and standing up. "Why don't you come with me, and we'll leave my little hellions for these two lovely ladies to take care of, then?"

Callie led Becky outside, to a nearby building. Unlike most of the other small buildings, which were a variety of colors, this one was white. She motioned Becky through the door, and to her surprise, Becky found herself in a fairly stereotypical exam room. There was the average looking exam bench, a table with a sink, a bunch of storage units, and a curtain one could draw around the bench. There was two doors – the one she just walked through and another. Given the size of the outside of the building and the room that they were, Becky surmised that it led to a very small room, possible a closet or maybe a bathroom. There were two stools; Callie motioned Becky to the one.

"Why don't you just take a seat there, for now, and we can have a little chat," she said, pulling a white coat off a hook, and putting it on. "Just let me get all professional-looking, here, will you?" she asked Becky with a smile.

"Is this your office?" Becky asked.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. There is another building like this, a bit bigger, in another part of Haven – you'll probably pass it on your tour – and I'm there more than here. We usually reserve this building for Stef and Lena's kids, since it's small and nearby the Big House. I also work in a clinic about an hour from here. That's what you would probably call my official practice. I split my time between here and there. There, I do the regular doctor thing – seeing patients with appointments, for one – while here, I just sorta see people as they need. Sometimes they make an appointment, sometimes not. I kinda like the unstructured openness; it gives me lots of time to spend with my kids and there's always someone around to watch them for a bit at need. We all pitch in to help each other out around here, and I think my kids have more unofficial "aunts" and "uncles" than any other kid on the planet. Well, except other Haven kids, perhaps," she said grinning.

"That's nice," Becky said.

"So, eventually, I'll need you to fill out a little paperwork – medical history, family history, things like that. If you were a patient at my clinic, I could just contact your regular doctor and get it, but if I tried that now, it would involve giving them my location, which could potentially bring the cops to you. I'm guessing that is not something you want, yeah?"

Becky nodded fervently.

"Right. Makes sense. Most of the kids Stef and Lena bring to Haven don't want to be find. You can fill out that paperwork now or a little later, once you've rested, but I need it for my files since it looks like you'll be sticking around for a while." Becky noticed she didn't specify a _short_ while or a _long_ while. "But I'm more concerned right now about the fact you told Lena you had some injuries?" She paused, and Becky realized that she was waiting for an answer.

"It's nothing to worry about, just some cuts and bruises. I took care of it." Becky tried to brush it off, but Callie wasn't falling for her nonchalant tone.

"Have you had to self-administer first-aid in the past?"

"Yeah."

"Can I take a look, just to make sure nothing needs treatment?" Becky slowly nodded, but made no move. "Where are you hurt? Will you show me?"

"My ribs are a little bruised, I guess," she said.

"Hop on the bench, and I'll take a look," Callie said, turning to the sink to wash her hands. When she turned around, Becky had her shirt off, and was perched on the bench in her bra and jeans, arms protectively wrapped around her chest. Both sides of her rib cage were completely black and blue, with older bruises evidenced by yellow and green splotches. The bruising continued under her bra, and Callie could see evidence of bite marks. Bruises ringed both wrists, the perfect size and shape to have been made by somebody grabbing her wrists with their hands. Near her hip, a spot was covered in tape and some blood-stained gauze. Callie pulled on gloves at the sight of the blood. Her heart broke for the girl who had taken such a beating, but she kept her face calm and compassionate.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad do you hurt right now?" A shrug was her only answer. She decided to try a different tactic, placing her fingers on the gauze on Becky's hip. "I'm going to take a look at this, alright?" A nod. Callie carefully peeled back the tape and removed the gauze, her delicate touch hardly causing Becky to flinch. The gauze revealed several jagged gashes, some shallow some deep. The deeper ones had steri-strips placed over them, and the astringent smell of over-the-counter antiseptic cream reached her nose.

"You took care of this yourself? You're pretty good at first-aid," she commented. "Especially for difficult area." Becky didn't respond. "Well, it doesn't look like you're going to need stitches, so I'm just going to rebandage you." She pulled out packages of gauze and tape and more strips, as well as a tube of cream, and delicately applied them. "You're going to have to be careful showering for a few days, but you'll need to keep it clean and put on fresh bandages. You might need help. Don't hesitate asking. I'll help you, both Stef and Lena can, Dani could...there's a lot of people willing and able." Becky nodded. Callie paused a moment before asking, "Will you tell what caused this?"

There was a pause, and she didn't think she would get an answer, before Becky finally said, "A beer bottle." When she didn't offer more, Callie decided not to press just now.

"Why don't you lay down, so I can examine your ribs?" she asked, helping Becky as the girl complied with her wishes. She placed her fingers lightly over Becky's rib cage. "Does it hurt a lot more when I do this?" A shrug. "Okay, Becky, I'm going to poke around and make you didn't crack any ribs. I want you to tell me if you have any sharp pains." A nod. Callie began carefully palpating the area around Becky's ribs, feeling for anything that seemed out of place and watching the girl for any flinching or grimaces of pain.

There were some flinches and some grimaces, of course, as Callie was pressing on bruised skin, but nothing that signified bone damage. "It doesn't look like you've cracked any ribs. Do you have any pain upon breathing, or movement? Like, when you lay down or during the car ride?"

"Not broken-ribs pain," Becky said.

"Have you had broken ribs before?" A shrug. Callie made a mental note to start interpreting Becky's shrugs as meaning 'yes-but-I-don't-want-to-admit-it'. She paused her fingers at the edge of Becky's bra. "Becky, those look like bite marks." Another shrug. "Can I see? You can change into a gown if you'd like." Another shrug. "I need verbal consent."

"You can see," Becky whispered, but she turned her head away to look at the wall. Callie reached into a drawer and got a gown out anyway, draping it over her patient to allow her some semblance of modesty. She undid the front clasp of the bra, noting that Becky had probably chosen it because it was easier to put on, indicating some pain upon movement. As the bra fell back, bite marks over both breasts were revealed. Lena had warned Callie that she suspected Becky might have sexually assaulted, but that Becky had not said anything. It looked now that Lena's suspicions may have been accurate, and Callie steeled herself for what was to come. This was not the first girl she'd treated for that, and would likely not be the last, but repetition did not make it easier.

"Who did this to you?" Silence. "You can tell me anything. This is a safe place. I'm not here to judge. I want to treat you. I care about you."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you care? Nobody cares."

"Once upon a time, I said that, too. There are people in your life – like, your parents – who are supposed to care about you, right? But sometimes they don't, and you think that nobody else ever will. But here's the lesson I learned, and I learned it about when I was your age, too. Blood doesn't make a family; love does. We find people who choose to care about us, and that's all that matters in the end. We find people who choose to love. And yes, sometimes they disappoint us, but there are seven billion people out there, so it makes sense that you find the people who make up your family. How does it work? I don't know. What makes people care? I don't know that either. But let me ask you this. You've met my kids. If you were with them, and someone came in and threatened them, would you let the person hurt them?"

"No, of course not." Her tone was indignant.

"Why not? You only just met them, you're not family. You have no obligations to."

"They're...kids. They're all happy and sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. They have their whole lives ahead of them. They've done nothing to nobody. Why would anyone want to hurt them?"

"See what I mean? You're a kid. You have your whole life ahead of you. I would be absolutely shocked if you had ever hurt someone who didn't try to hurt you first at least. Why would anyone want to hurt you? The way you feel about my kids right now, I feel about you. Is that so foreign?"

"Yes." The answer was so quiet Callie had to strain to hear it.

"Well, it won't be such a foreign concept soon hopefully. There are good people in this world. There are good people here. I hope you'll come to see that." Becky was looking at her now, and Callie could detect a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Now, will you tell me what happened?"

Becky sat up, gingerly bringing her knees to her chest like it was hurting her but it was something she needed to do. She pulled the gown over her shoulders, wrapping it around herself like a blanket. "It was...my mother's...uh...boyfriend. Man-of-the-month. He was drunk, they both were. I tried to stay out of the way. I was unsuccessful. This happened."

"It's not your fault. I want you to know that. To hear it. To internalize it. This wasn't your fault." Becky didn't answer. Callie sighed a little. "Becky, I'm going to ask you a question now, and I really really hope that you can at least give me an honest answer. We don't have to talk about it, or do anything you don't want to, but I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?" Becky slowly nodded. "These bite marks suggest something more may have happened with him. I need to know. Did he rape you?"

There was silence and Callie wondered if she would be getting an answer. The silence itself spoke volumes, that Becky hadn't immediately denied it, but she wanted confirmation. Finally, a whisper "Yes", and then the tears started to fall as she wept, rocking herself in an attempt at self-comfort. Callie didn't hesitate, but wrapped her arms around the girl, minding the injured ribs, and let her cry herself out on her shoulder.

Time passed as they sat like that. It could have been a long time. It could have been a short time. Callie couldn't tell and it didn't really matter. Finally, the intensity of the sobs started to wind down, and a little while later, they stopped. Right when she felt Becky starting to pull back, she let go, and reached around to hand her a tissue for her nose.

"Sorry," Becky said.

"Don't ever apologize for tears."

"What now?"

"That's up to you. I would like to examine you, and make sure nothing is torn or damaged. I could take samples, do a kit, we could give it to Stef, who would handle the cops. They could get the guy who did this to you. With DNA evidence and your statement, they could put him away for a long time."

"It doesn't always work like that."

"You're right, it doesn't. But that doesn't mean he should just get to walk, either." There was a sadness in Callie's tone. She still hadn't forgotten what had happened all those years ago, and what the results of the trial had been.

"But then they'd know where I was and they'd send me back to Her."

"To whom?"

"My mother."

"Is there a reason you don't want to go back to her?"

"She was there when he...hurt me. She was drunk, but she was awake and she was there. And she did nothing!" The tears were threatening to come again, as Becky relayed her mother's betrayal. And that alone hurt more than everything else.

"They could charge her for that, too. Child endangerment, at the very least."

"She'll figure out how to get the charges dropped. She always does, and comes out smelling of roses."

"Maybe you're right. But Becky, now is the time you've got to make the choice to do the rape kit or not. We don't have to send it in right away, or I could send it out through my clinic as a Jane Doe. You can decide later if you want to go through with it, or not. But if you think for a minute you might want to, someday, now is the time we have to do it. The evidence is not completely fresh as is – have you showered, changed, peed? – but the longer we wait, the less evidence you have. And without evidence, it's your word against his, and trust me, you don't want that."

"How do you know?"

"Because that is what happened to me. I was fourteen, and it was my foster-brother. I came forward at sixteen, and the judge dismissed the case because it was a he-said-she-said and I was in the system. He never got to pay for what he did to me, or what he tried to do with the next girl who lived with them."

"Oh." Becky looked really pensive, as Callie had hoped she might. It was why she had decided to share her story with the girl, to give her the chance for justice that she never had. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Thank you. I'm sorry it happened to you, too. And that's why I encourage you to get the kit, so if you do decide you want to prosecute, you can. And you can talk to Stef about it. She's a retired cop, you know, and still keeps her hand in. She would know the details about what might happen with you and him and your mother if you do decide to go through with it." Becky wasn't saying anything. "I'd like to take a look, anyway, and check you for STIs, offer you the morning-after pill, do a blood test, the works. Did he use a condom? Are you on birth control?" Becky shook her head. "I'd recommend at least that, then, just to cover your bases, make sure there aren't any...surprises...later."

"You can do it all," she finally said. "Do the exam, the kit, whatever. But I don't want you to send it in yet."

"Alright. I think that's the right choice, if that makes a difference. But it shouldn't matter what I think; all that matters is what you want. Okay?" Becky nodded. "Well, first off, did you shower afterward?"

"No. No time. But I washed the blood off with a facecloth."

"There was bleeding, then?"

"Yes."

And they went from there.

~~~o~~~

_Author's Note 2: What did you think? Do you like Callie as a doctor? Who do you think is the father of her kids (hint: he may be introduced in the next chapter or two, when Becky is given the tour of Haven)? And what about poor Becky? What will she do? Like it or hate it, give me your thoughts, please, and enough reviews may motivate me to update again before Sunday, when Thanksgiving break ends!_


	5. Chapter 5 - Doctor's Orders

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show._

_Author's Note: So, this chapter is actually a continuation of the last chapter, which got really, really long, so I cut it in two. Next chapter, you'll see Haven and meet some new people, I promise! As always, please review!_

_Trigger warning: Flashbacks of rape and abuse._

~~~o~~~

**Chapter 5: Doctor's Orders**

Callie opened the door of her exam room, revealing the winter sun of a southern California day to Becky. "Let's get back to the house," she said. Becky nodded. The past couple hours had been hard on them both, but much worse for Becky, who was already exhausted, lost, and confused, as well as suffering both the physical and psychological effects of the trauma. They traipsed the short distance, but Callie stopped her at the door.

"Everything you told me is under doctor-patient confidentiality. You know that, right?" Becky nodded. "That means I can't, and won't, tell anyone, even my moms. If it happens that you do want me to say something, you have to tell me specifically what. I tell you this only because they are going to want to talk to you about what happened, and I know that can be tough. I encourage you to be honest; they're great people, but even if you decide not to take my advice and lie, I won't say anything to the contrary. I can't. But if you want them to know, and want me to tell them, so you don't have to, I can do that to. It's up to you, Becky. It's in your control."

Becky thought about this. "They opened their home to me. I should tell them."

"You're under no obligation to. I want you to understand that. You're under no obligation to tell them anything more than you already have. What you have said already has validated your presence here, and their protection."

"Oh." She was quiet. "I don't have to?"

"Nope. But I believe it might help you process, and heal, if you do."

"I will. I'll tell them. I should. But, not now. I'm really tired."

"That's fine, and perfectly understandable. You've been up all night and you've dealt with some huge life changes. You'd have to be superhuman not to be affected by it all. You should sleep, to heal body and mind."

"But Lena wants to talk and take me on a tour of Haven, which I really want to see because I don't understand it, and I really really want a real shower -"

Callie laughed. "How about this? Doctor's orders: shower and a nap. When you feel refreshed, they can take you on the Grand Tour."

Becky smiled shyly. "That would be wonderful." The adrenaline that had powered her this far had run out, and the events of last night and this morning were really catching up to her. Now that she felt safe, her body was demanding its due.

"Why don't we figure out what room you're in, and I'll show you the bathroom so you can shower. I'll hang out long enough to talk with my moms and see how my kids have fared in my absence, so if you need a hand, you can just holler. After, I'll change your bandage, and you can hop into clean clothes and between clean sheets, in a dark room, and take a nap."

"You just changed it. I feel bad making you do it again."

"Don't. Really. Don't feel bad. It's really no problem at all, and honestly, I'd rather do it so I can keep an eye on it myself."

"Alright." Becky agreed.

Callie opened the door to the house. "Hello?" she called out.

"Sunspace!" A voice called back. Becky thought it may have been Lena's voice, but she wasn't sure.

Callie grinned. "You'll like the sunspace," she said. "It's my favorite." She led Becky to a part of the house she hadn't seen yet, and out a set of French doors. Becky soon realized why Callie had said this was her favorite room. One wall was completely windows, floor to ceiling. There were windows on both sides as well, and a sunlight overhead. It was bright, and airy, and had a magnificent, sweeping view of the land. Becky could see some tiny – cabins? houses? buildings? – nearby. It held some plants and patio furniture, and Stef was lounging in a hammock to one side. Lena was sitting on the floor, playing with the twins.

"Mommy!" They yelled in unison upon seeing Callie and ran over to her. Callie got down on her knees so she could embrace them both.

"Hi, my babies! Were you good for Nana and Gammy?"

"Uh huh," Noah said. Becky noticed that he seemed to be the more talkative of the two.

"So?" Lena asked, after greetings were finished.

"Well, as a doctor, I'm going to have to prescribe...a shower and a nap," Callie said, winking at Becky.

"A serious prescription," Stef commented, not at all seriously, from her spot on the hammock.

"We put your backpack in the room you'll be staying in," Lena said, with a glare at her wife. "I'll show you," she said, starting to rise from the floor.

"That's okay, I will," Callie said quickly.

"Thanks, sweetie. It's the one to the left of the stairs. Do you need clean pajamas, Becky? We have a bunch of spare clothes laying around."

"I packed pajamas, but thank you."

"Yeah, sure. But, Callie, show her the closet anyway. That way you'll know where it is if you ever do need something. Just grab whatever you need, no need to ask or anything. It's what it's there for."

"Thanks."

Callie led Becky out of the sunspace. "Quick tour, just to orient you. Kitchen, dining room, you saw, living room's over there, pretty obvious given the couches, I'd say. The computer in the kitchen is for anyone to use for anything. Well, not quite anything – no downloading porn, alright?" She winked at Becky. "There's a bathroom with a tub down that hall, the one upstairs has only a shower. The door next to it is that closet Lena was talking about." She led Becky upstairs, where there was a hallway containing five doors and a railing that overlooked the living room. Callie turned to the right. "First door is Stef and Lena's room, the second is the bathroom, and the other three are bedrooms. You're in this one," she said, motioning Becky through the only door to the left of the stairs.

Becky saw a room that held a single bed, a night-table, a desk with a chair, and a closet. Her backpack sat on the chair. "I get it to myself?" she asked, wonderingly.

"Yeah, you do."

"Am I kicking someone out?"

"Nope. It was empty."

"But I thought other kids lived here too? Lena said there were eight, nine with me."

"Did you notice the little buildings nearby?"

"Yeah..."

"We call them bed-cabins. Lots of kids, different backgrounds, little house – space became an issue fairly quickly. And so, bed-cabins were born. The older kids get them. There's some younger kids in the house, but after you've been here a little while, and you're not waking up screaming from nightmares every night, as some do, and you're about thirteen or more, you get the option of your very own bed-cabin."

"Oh. That's cool."

"That's what most teenagers think. It's not a system that would work in the city, but out here, everybody's happy with it. Show that you're not responsible enough, and you get put back into the house, where you might have to share a room. That doesn't usually happen. Most of the kids here are fairly responsible, and while they might test at first, to see what they can get away with, they usually respond to Stef's warnings and her laying down the law." Becky nodded. It made sense.

"So, bath or shower? A bath might be easier, you could soak the bruises, just be careful about your wound..."

"A bath would be nice."

"Grab your stuff," Callie prompted. She led Becky back downstairs and to the bathroom, and showed her where to find towels, soap, and things. "When you're done, let me know, and I'll do your bandage. Or holler if you need something sooner, alright?"

"Okay." Satisfied with Becky's answer, Callie left.

Becky turned on the water, letting it warm before filling the bathtub. As she carefully undressed, she wondered when she last had a bath. There had been a bathtub in the master bathroom, but her mother almost never let her use it. She said it was a waste of water, but Becky knew that her mother took a bath many nights after work, if she wasn't...entertaining someone. She tested the water again, and turned the dial to make it slightly cooler. As much as a hot bath sounded good to her bruises, she knew not to push her luck with the open wounds.

She slipped into the tub, having undressed with care for her bruises and removed the dressing Callie had put on the wound on her hip. A slight hiss escaped her lips as her wound came into contact with the warm water, but it stopped stinging quickly. She was long past feeling any shock about seeing her body black-and-blue, although the analytical part of her mind distantly noticed that this was probably the worst it had ever been. She lay her head back and relaxed into the tub's contours, closing her eyes in exhaustion.

_A flash of memory, walking into the kitchen for a glass of water, brought out by the prolonged silence that usually indicated two passed-out drunks. Her wrist being suddenly grabbed and pulled into the living room. A leery grin, a lewd comment. Trying to twist out of the way and being hit with an empty beer bottle._ Becky sat up in the tub, hugging her knees, trying to make the visions stop. She was unsuccessful. _Ending up on the floor of the living room. Being kicked in the sides. Her clothes being ripped off. Seeing her mother's open eyes and drunken, sleepy smile as she lay on the couch, bottle still in hand, as he brutally thrust inside her. "You like that, don't you?" he said to her, before turning to her mother. "You like that, don't you?" he repeated to her watching mother, with a smile._

She could still feel him on her, could feel his tongue licking her face and chest. She took soap and a washcloth and began harshly scrubbing her body, paying no mind of her injuries as she tried to scrub the memories away, over and over again. But memories have a way of being caught inside your skin, unable to be washed away like dirt. And no matter how many times she scrubbed, despite the soap and the scalding hot water when she turned on the shower both to rinse away the memories and to cover the sound of her crying, she still felt unclean. _Maybe I'm just a dirty person, now, _she thought to herself. _Maybe I'll never feel clean again. Maybe I don't deserve to be._

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Becky? It's Callie. Do you need anything? Are you ready for my help with your bandage?"

"Just a minute," Becky called. Hurriedly, she dried herself off and pulled on her clean underwear and pajamas, the long sleeves and pants hiding her bruised body. She wrapped the towel around her damp hair, and checked the mirror to see if she looked like she'd been crying. She didn't, much, but her skin was pretty red from the water. _Maybe Callie won't notice?_

"I'm ready," she said finally, unlocking the door. Callie came in, her hands already holding a first-aid kit. Her keen eyes didn't miss much, from the redness of Becky's skin, to the puffiness around her eyes, and the heavy steam that hadn't yet dissipated. Becky lifted the side of her shirt and pulled down the elastic of her waistband to allow Callie access to her wound.

"Do you always like hot showers?" she asked, conversationally.

"I just wanted to feel clean," Becky said, hanging her head.

"And do you?" Callie knew they weren't talking physically.

"No," she whispered, ashamed.

Callie nodded knowingly. "It takes time."

"I've heard that before."

"'Time heals all wounds' is a cliché for a reason."

"How much time?"

"As long as is needed. No more, no less." She finished the dressing. "Finished. Ready for a rest?"

Becky continued staring at her feet. Finally, she admitted, ""I see him when I close my eyes. I feel him on my skin."

"I could offer you a sleeping aid, but I can't promise you a dreamless sleep. Dreams are part of how we process what has happened to us. Allowing our subconscious that time can actually help speed the process up a little. I can promise you that you'll be safe in this house while you sleep and that you won't be alone."

"Maybe I'll wake up and this will all be a nightmare."

"If only. But know that if your memories invade your dreams, that will just be a nightmare. You are safe. You are secure. You are protected. No one will hurt you here."

"Promise?" She sounded so much younger than her age. Callie knew that trauma could cause regression, and made a mental note to watch out for it.

"I promise. Now, it's time to sleep. Your body requires it. Your mind will also do better for it."

"Alright." Becky allowed Callie to lead her back upstairs. Callie pointed out the laundry basket and towel hooks in Becky's new room before tucking her into bed like she was one of her twins.

"Now, repeat after me. I am safe here."

"I am safe here."

"Nothing will hurt me while I sleep."

"Nothing will hurt me while I sleep."

"Even if I have nightmares of what happened, it's not happening again."

"Even if I have nightmares of what happened, it's not happening again."

"Sleep well, Becky."

"Will you...will you be here when I wake up?"

"I can't promise that. I may be needed. But I can promise you that someone will. You will not be left alone. Alright?"

"Alright." Becky watched as Callie closed the blinds and hit the lights, making the room fairly dark for all that it was midday. It was not, however, pitch black, and for that, Becky was thankful. She had always been afraid of the dark. Hidden things could come at you out of the dark, and Becky's monsters were unfortunately not of the bogey-man-under-the-bed variety. They were very real.

As much as her mind feared falling asleep, her body had other plans, and very soon, she slipped into slumber, holding Callie's words in her mind like a prayer.


End file.
